


Royal Prerogatives and Chocobo Riding

by PortraitOfTheAuthorAsAYoungTRex



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Butt Plugs, Let's admit the end of the game needs as much comfort as we can get, Multi, You WILL Live Happily Ever After Dammit, no sex on-screen, the boys live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortraitOfTheAuthorAsAYoungTRex/pseuds/PortraitOfTheAuthorAsAYoungTRex
Summary: Noctis is the one to make the joke, and Prompto runs with it to make him laugh. He doesn't expect that ten years later, when Noctis is king, he'll remember. But a king keeps his promises.





	Royal Prerogatives and Chocobo Riding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Windturtle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windturtle/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to the cutest turtle of all!

Prompto is sprawled half over Noctis, sweaty and naked and pretty pleased with life. He's lazily joking with Noct, because that's what Prompto does, and Noct is teasing him back.

They're alone in the tent, Gladio and Ignis sleeping outside for obvious reasons--mostly because there's not really room inside for four guys to get it on in _any_ arrangement. They've tried. It can be done, but it's not comfy.

Prompto pretends to take offense to a particularly snarky comment, thumping his forehead (gently) against the royal chin in retaliation.

“Pfeh!” Noct says. “Get your hair out of my face. Your hair is ridiculous, you know that? What are you, a chocobo?”

“Oh, fuck you!” Prompto says, grinning at him. “My hair is the best.”

Noct rolls his eyes. “It makes me think I ought to be finding you a saddle.”

“Oooh, kinky!” Prompto chirps. “The prince is a sexual deviant! Although that shouldn't surprise me. I mean, you are the guy who's _sleeping_ with the chocobo.”

Noct makes an annoyed sound and pokes Prompto in the sides until he squeaks and flails. Noct smirks in satisfaction and Prompto huffs at him and settles as heavily as he can manage on Noct’s chest. Despite rolling his eyes again, Noct doesn't actually protest or make any move to dissuade this, because he actually likes it, not that he'd admit it out loud.

Prompto snuggles in and for a long, quiet space, it looks like they'll slide peacefully into sleep for once. Then Prompto hears a sigh he recognizes as ‘Noct is thinking again’ and groans internally.

“Mm?” he says.

Noct takes the invitation and starts talking, about the Empire, about Ardyn, about the whole situation. His face is dark, his voice low and frustrated, and yeah, Prompto totally called it, he's thinking way too much about this stuff. It's not like thinking is going to change anything when they're already doing the only thing they can.

Telling him to stop is just going to annoy him, and Prompto doesn't feel like lying here in huffy silence while Noct broods in the privacy of his own head. It doesn't take long to settle on a solution.

He puts his head on Noct’s shoulder and waits for a pause between thoughts. Then he leans up by Noct’s ear and quietly but clearly does his best imitation of a chocobo noise-- “ _Wah-ah-ark!_ ”

Noct sputters and smacks at him, grinning involuntarily as Prompto bursts out laughing. “What the fuck,” Noct says, trying to be annoyed. “You jackass!” He grabs for Prompto, who resists, and the two of them rough-house for a few minutes while Prompto giggles and Noct gets a grin that even in the dim light of the fire through the tent wall looks dangerous.

“You just wait,” Noct says when they've finally settled down, after he pinned Prompto triumphantly and Prompto yelped for mercy. “When we get done with all this, I'm gonna get you a chocobo butt plug.”

Prompto snickers. “Sounds uncomfortable.”

“No,” Noct says, “not one _shaped_ like a chocobo, one to turn _you_ into a chocobo, with a nice big feathery tail. That's all that's missing, right?”

Prompto snorts. “Sure, right, definitely. But that doesn't exactly sound like something you find lying around. Pretty sure you're gonna have trouble getting hold of one.”

Noct snorts back at him. “You think? When this is all done, I'll be king, remember? Pretty sure I can have it made if I want.”

“Oh, well, sure, if you wanna misuse your royal prerogatives and stuff,” Prompto mutters, eyes closing sleepily.

“Then all I have to find is a saddle, and get it fitted properly on you,” Noct continues, “and then--”

“Don't need a saddle to ride me, though,” Prompto says, opening his eyes to smirk.

Noct groans and laughs, swatting at him. “ _I_ was working up to that one, dammit!”

“Not my fault I'm quicker on the draw than you,” Prompto says, and snuggles down for real this time.

By the morning, he's mostly forgotten the conversation, except for the main joke about him being a chocobo. The chocobo noise turns into an injoke, and makes Noct crack up and swat at him almost without fail when he leans in to _wark_ in Noct’s ear, which makes it really handy when things get even grimmer. It's Prompto’s job to stay lighthearted and funny, after all, even when he's terrified. Someone's gotta keep people's spirits up when the world is ending.

*

Later--ten years later, when Ignis is blind and Gladio is scarred and Prompto barely survived finding out who he really is (himself. Prompto is himself, dammit, and unlike some dickheads, it turns out he's actually an okay guy to be)--after Noctis got locked in a crystal for a decade and came out with a grave stillness in his eyes--

Later, after they all fought and nearly died and Noctis _did_ die and came back again--

Noctis is crowned, and they're all living in the palace.

They're still getting used to each other after years of being apart, years of not having Noct there to hold them together. They're all different, worn down and honed sharp by ten years of darkness, literal and figurative. Gladio is quieter than he was, a watchful calm behind his amber eyes. Ignis is sterner, more proud. Noct--

Noctis is a fucking king. He went into that crystal to ‘gather the power of the kings’, whatever the hell that means, and he came out--not unrecognizable, exactly. But really different from the moody, snarky kid Prompto remembers. He's got this gravitas now, this steady weight behind his words, and Prompto’s not the dumb kid he used to be either, but he's not sure how to--how to _be_ around Noctis now. He's not sure how he fits in at all with the other three, now.

It helps a little when Noctis invites him to bed. He and Noct haven't touched like that in ten years, and they're cautious with each other, careful not to move too fast, not to make assumptions. It's awkward, but warm and sweet, and if Noct lacks the playful edge he used to have, the way he touches Prompto is amazed and almost reverent, which goes a long way to make up for it.

They don't manage a free evening together for a week or so after that, since a king’s schedule is a lot more demanding than a prince’s, especially when he's trying to rebuild after the fucking apocalypse. Prompto is just as busy helping put together the new Kingsglaive--hopefully one that won't turn traitor practically as one, this time.

Then, late one evening, Prompto is called to the king’s private rooms. Tired as he is, he figures he'd better take what he can get while he can, and heads there.

He's startled to find Ignis in the sitting room, standing straight and certain beside Noctis’s chair with Gladio lounging against the wall behind them. Noctis has his formal layers off, so Prompto just says, “Hey, guys!” instead of bowing.

Noctis smiles, and Ignis nods in a stately way and lifts the box he's holding just enough to bring it to Prompto’s attention. “You have a royal gift, Prompto. I trust you are ready to show appropriate gratitude.”

“A gift?” Prompto says, coming forward. His eyes flicker from face to face, looking for clues. Ignis’s face is perfectly blank like the trained political advisor he is, and Noctis’s smile is unreadable, but Gladio is smirking just slightly, which lets Prompto relax. Nothing serious, nothing he needs to brace for. No new responsibilities, thank Shiva. Noctis being casually dressed should really have been enough to signal that, if Prompto didn't still have his stupid anxiety to contend with.

“I'm sure I can find a way to thank His Majesty properly,” Prompto says solemnly, and takes the box from Ignis. It's pretty big, but surprisingly light, and he frowns a little, hefting it. It's a fancy box, black and nicely decorated with tasteful gold accents, and Gladio snorts softly as Prompto examines it, trying to find a clue before he opens it.

“Just open it,” Gladio says.

“Oh, well,” Prompto says, raising amused eyebrows at him, “I'd hate to keep you waiting.” He pulls the lid off.

At first the spray of big yellow feathers is all he can see, and he's trying to see under them to find what they're decorating--probably a silly hat or something. Then he sees the thing the feathers come out of, the smooth taper and flare of it, and his mouth drops open. He snickers at first because it's such a ridiculous combination, and looks up at Noctis to grin appreciation. Noctis has a look on his face that Prompto can't quite read, though, and it makes him blink and look down, try to figure out why--?

His mouth drops open when he remembers. He stares at Noctis, wide-eyed, and whoops with laughter because--after all that, after destruction and apocalypse and everything else, Noctis _remembered_ a joke from one night ages back and kept his word, made that playful threat happen.

Gladio is chuckling, Ignis letting go his cool facade to snicker along. Noctis meets Prompto’s eyes and the unreadable look breaks, relief flashing over his face followed by a mischievous smirk Prompto hasn't seen in--a really long time.

“ _Fuck_ , Noct!” Prompto gasps. He's laughing because it's a funny gift, because his king took the time for something so lighthearted and silly, because even with all the work they have left to do, the war is _over_ , they can _afford_ to be silly now and again. And he's laughing because somehow it feels like he just saw a friend he hasn't seen in ten years, wasn't sure survived the crystal.

“You didn't think I'd remember,” Noct says smugly.

“Fuck, dude, _I_ didn't remember!” Prompto says, still grinning so wide it hurts. He kind of wants to say _It's still you! You're still there! I missed you_ , but that's not very coherent and not what he means anyway. Noct is still the same guy, still Prompto’s best friend, no matter how much he's changed. It's just an incredible relief to find that even that playful part of him that used to horse around with Prompto is still alive, alone with his friends here.

“So, you like it?” Noct asks. He pretends to frown from the box to Prompto’s hair. “The color’s not _quite_ right, but I didn't think you'd be too picky.”

Prompto snickers again, leans forward in answer and goes, “ _Wah-ah-ark!_ ”

Noctis cracks up almost like he used to, except that he's not resisting it now. He laughs with a kind of easy delight, like he's just as amazed to be here as Prompto is, just as relieved to be able to share an old joke.

“You realize,” Ignis says when they're all quieting down again, “it's rude to be given a wearable item and not show the giver how it looks on you.”

“Well, that gets a little complicated, doesn't it, Specs?” Noct says before Prompto can respond. “I mean, you're the one who found the artisan and commissioned the thing, after all--”

“And concealed the true commissioner to ensure that the artisan wouldn't go spreading tales of the king’s unnatural lust for chocobos, yes,” Ignis sighs.

“--So you're partly the giver, too,” Noct finishes, throwing Prompto a sideways look.

“And I didn't give the game away,” Gladio rumbles. “I get some credit, too, right?”

Noctis looks back at him, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “I don't know, that might be stretching things a little far…”

Considering Gladio’s size, things certainly will get stretched a little far if he’s involved, Prompto thinks, slightly hysterically. Everyone is watching him now, and he stares from Noct to Gladio to Iggy, trying to figure out how serious they are, or if this is a joke he isn't getting.

Gladio sighs quietly as the pause extends. Ignis shifts his weight.

“Obviously the true giver is the king,” Ignis says. “I'm certain Gladio can find occupation elsewhere this evening, and I certainly have duties I should be carrying out--”

“But later, right?” Prompto says. His voice is a little high with nerves, because honestly, he wasn't expecting to get this back, not all of them. He was startled enough that Noct still wanted him, but the other two agreeing was just--he'd assumed sleeping with him had been a passing thing, not something they'd want to pick up again. But by the hopeful way they're looking at him, it's no joke, they're serious.

“Come on, Iggy,” he says, “you guys can take a _little_ time off, right?”

Ignis’s lips part and spread into a slow smile. “I imagine we can be spared for an evening, yes.”

“Awesome!” Prompto cheers, looking back at Noct to be sure he's okay with this. Prompto can't stop double-checking--really? Really, this is okay? All three of them want him, and they're all okay with this, and it's not just Prompto misinterpreting things and making assumptions that are gonna have him kicking himself later when he's alone and hurting?

Noct is outright grinning. Doesn't look like he's unhappy in the least, and Gladio’s smirk looks pretty pleased, and Ignis’s smile is warm and soft.

“May I?” Ignis says quietly, lifting one hand cautiously towards Prompto’s face, unerring despite his blindness, and Prompto catches it, pressing the palm to his cheek.

“Yeah,” he says, a little breathless. Noctis takes the box from his other hand and sets it on the floor.

Ignis steps in and leans down to kiss Prompto, gentle at first and then deeper. Prompto hums into it, melting slightly because _damn_ , Iggy hasn't gotten any less good at that in the last decade.

When he lets Prompto go, Gladio steps away from the wall. He grabs Prompto by the back of the neck and kisses him a lot more playfully than Prompto remembers, nipping his lips and tongue teasingly. It's a lot cuter and more fun than the bruising fierceness he used to have. Ending with a hair ruffle, he steps back.

“Oh, I see,” Noctis says, standing up. “My royal authority is being challenged. I have to prove who's the better kisser.” It's weird to hear him say something that playful when he still has such a regal bearing, drawing Prompto closer with hands on his shoulders. Noct leans in for the kiss, and it's hot and sweet, making Prompto moan.

“Well?” Noct says when he pulls back, smiling.

“Uh,” Prompto says, trying to stiffen his weak knees. “Uh, further, um, comparisons are gonna be required before I can, you know, draw any solid conclusions.”

“Hmm,” Noct says, narrowing amused eyes.

“I see no difficulty with that,” Iggy says. “Let us remove to more comfortable surroundings. Such as bed.”

“Sounds good,” Gladio says. He stoops to pick up Prompto’s gift box with one hand, wraps the other arm around Prompto’s waist, and heaves him over one broad shoulder with a yelp.

“Dude, what the fuck? I can walk! Put me down!”

“Nope, you're not a chocobo yet, so I can carry you if I want.”

“That doesn't even--Noct, tell him that doesn't make sense! Iggy, help!”

“Makes sense to me,” Noctis says innocently.

Ignis is no help at all, snickering as he follows them towards the royal bedroom. “I'm afraid it has very little to do with sense, and a great deal to do with folding you in half with your ass in the air, Prompto.”

Gladio snickers and pats said ass, making Prompto squeak.

On the downside, Prompto thinks giddily, none of them are going to get much sleep tonight. On the upside, the king’s bed can easily fit four grown men in just about whatever arrangement they want. This is going to be amazing.

...Even if he has to talk in _wark_ s for the rest of the night.


End file.
